Fields of Dreams
by siophiefandom
Summary: Spencer doesn't make a good first impression on her new second baseman. But it's a seven-inning game, and there might still be time to win Emily's heart. Spemily mini-series (five-shot) (I thought "Fieldings" would be the perfect title for a Fields/Hastings softball fic, but it's not really a word, is it?)
1. Like a Girl

**A/N - So, this is different...**

 **If I may, I'd like to explain, since I'm a huge fan of Paige McCullers, and I've never written a fic where she wasn't romantically involved. Until now.**

 **It started with an idea for a Paily one-shot based on the line, "You throw like a girl." I mulled it around in my head for a few days, but nothing seemed to come of it.**

 **Then, the remarkably skilled emma ray (put a period between those two names... the site won't let me...), in response to a review of _Fear and Loathing in Rosewood, PA_ (** ** **If you're not reading that fic, do yourself a favor: Stop reading this one and go look it up!) (You'll thank me...) suggested (as a joke?) that I write a Spemily fic. I started re-imagining the one-shot as a Spemily fic, and it just took off.  
****

 ** **Anyway, I know that a lot of people who read my fics don't have any interest in Spemily, and I understand that you'll want to skip this one. (Thanks for reading this far!) (assuming that you're still reading...) I am toying with the idea of posting an alternate, Paily version. (It wouldn't be just as simple as swapping Paige's name for Spencer's...) If you would be interested in that, please let me know. I won't promise anything, but I'll consider it.****

 ** **By the way, I kept typing "Paige" instead of "Spencer" as I worked on this story... Even my subconscious is a Paige stan! :D****

 ** **Thanks for reading! :)****

* * *

"Damn it!" Spencer slammed her fist into her mitt, watching from the circle as the throw from second base skidded into the dirt and skipped past the first baseman. "You throw like a girl," she said under her breath, not turning around to face the girl whose throw she was complaining about.

But Emily heard. She patted her chest, acknowledging that the bad throw was her fault. She wore an apologetic smile, but, inside, she, like her pitcher, was fuming. The ball had taken a bad hop off of the bat, forcing her to field it awkwardly. That's why, when she came up throwing, the ball ended up in the dirt. It wasn't as if she didn't know how to throw. And, even though she might have been a bit rusty, since she hadn't played in years and was more accustomed to playing in the outfield, she had been fielding her position ably through the first six innings. Spencer should've known that.

And, she further thought, Spencer should've known to head to first base when the ball went past the pitching circle, to back up the throw. If she had done that, maybe she wouldn't have had a runner in scoring position to deal with.

 _Whatever_ , Emily thought. She didn't even want to be there in the first place.

She had only come as a favor to Paige. Apparently, Paige had eyes on some unnamed member of the team, and she begged Emily to go along and be her wingman. Emily knew what it was really about. Paige wanted to get her out there – back in circulation. Like her mom and the rest of her friends, Paige just couldn't accept the fact that she was fine on her own. They were determined for Emily to meet someone. Eventually, Paige's non-stop pleading wore Emily down. At the very least, she told herself, it would be fun to be active again. But after that snide comment from Spencer, Emily was ready for the final three outs.

Spencer must still have been distracted by thoughts about Emily's error when she fired her next pitch over the plate. It didn't drop when it was supposed to; it just hung right up in the battter's wheelhouse. Emily looked up and watched the ball sail over her head. When she saw Paige beeline it toward the fence, she took a couple of quick steps over onto the outfield grass. Paige made a beautiful over-the-shoulder catch and came up throwing, falling as she fired the ball back to the infield. Emily had to bend on one knee to cut off the throw, and, as she stood up, she relayed a perfect strike to third base, to gun down the runner. The third baseman threw the ball back to Emily, and Emily tossed it to the Spencer in the circle. Spencer tucked it into her mitt and gave Emily a fist-pump. Emily rolled her eyes and wheeled around, holding up two fingers to indicate that there were two outs. She pointed a finger to Paige, as if to say, "Nice throw," and Paige pointed back, to say, "Nice cut."

Spencer got behind on the next batter but got her to bite on a drop ball that came back to the circle on two hops. Spencer fielded the ball and raced the batter to first base, beating her to the bag by a step to record the final out. Emily just shook her head. Spencer could've made the easy toss to first base, but she had to take it herself. At least the game was finally over. She hung out on the fringes as the team huddled around Spencer to congratulate her with high-fives. Emily was the first to line up to shake hands with the opposing team. That way, she could get right to the bench, collect her gear, and get out of there. As she loaded up her bag, her thoughts were interrupted by an eager voice.

"Hey - nice cut off! We really needed that double play!"

Emily just glared at her.

Spencer faltered for a second before she found her confidence again. "Oh, sorry about that 'throws like a girl' comment," she said with a demure, apologetic chuckle. "It was just... I just, you know... the heat of the moment. I tend to get a little of competitive," she admitted with a half shrug.

"Yeah?" Emily said flatly. She wasn't concerned about this girl or this conversation. She turned back to her bag, retrieving a brush. When she felt Spencer put her hand on her shoulder to get her attention, she glared at the hand and then at Spencer's face.

"Oh..." Spencer smiled nervously, putting both hands up in surrender. "Sorry. I just... you're a good player. I was wondering whether you were going to come out again next week?"

Emily smiled dismissively and shook her head. "I'm just here with my friend," she said, nodding in the general direction where she had last seen Paige. Paige had managed to disappear, though, only increasing Emily's level of annoyance.

"Oh." Spencer was trying to sound upbeat and nonchalant. "Well, if you ever feel like getting out there again, you should give me a call." Spencer undid the strap around her wrist where she had fastened the card with the signs for the pitches. She pulled the card out of its clear plastic holster, self-consciously wiping it on her pants to get rid of the one or two stray drops of perspiration before she turned it over, pointing out her number on the back. Emily sneered at her. _Really?_ She couldn't believe that this girl went around with pre-printed cards to hand out with her phone number.

"Oh God!" Spencer's voice was high-pitched and nervous. The Hastings confidence had completely abandoned her. She reached her hand to grab Emily's shoulder, but remembered the reaction that she had gotten the last time and retracted her hand, using it to tuck a strand of her hair under her cap instead. "It's not as if I'm in the habit of passing out my number... I just..." Spencer sighed. It wasn't going well at all. "I don't know..." She extended the card to Emily again. "You'd make a great addition to the team. And we had fun today?"

Emily didn't want to be rude. She smiled weakly and took the card; – anything to get out of there. Spencer strolled off towards her car, taking a quick peek back on the off-chance that Emily had somehow decided to follow her with her eyes, for a final wave good-bye. Far from it. Emily was too busy scanning the field for Paige, who had magically reappeared behind Emily as soon as Spencer withdrew, startling Emily when she tapped her on the shoulder. She had an annoyingly smug smile on her face, which Emily chose to ignore. "Are you ready?" she droned, in a voice that communicated just how over she was with softball.

"So. You met the team captain." Paige, undeterred, was upbeat. "And she gave you... her pitching card? as a souvenir?"

Emily turned it over, revealing the actual reason that Spencer had given it to her. Paige's eyes lit up, and Emily gave her a shove. "Let's just get out of here. Please."

* * *

Paige glanced over at Emily from the driver's seat. "So. It was fun getting back out on the old diamond today, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Emily answered gamely, her face showing that she had genuinely enjoyed it. Most of it. She rubbed her shoulder, adding, "I'm going to feel it tomorrow, though."

"I know, right?" Paige scrunched her face sympathetically for a second before she got back to her main line of inquiry. "And... a little attention from the team captain doesn't hurt!"

"Okay, God! - You know what, Paige?"

Paige's eyes were back on the road, but she could heard Emily's scowl in her voice.

"Okay, okay!" Paige lifted her hands off the steering wheel for a moment to shake them in front of her face. "I get it!" She deepened her voice as she mocked Emily's line oft-repeated mantra. "You're a rebel... a loner... you don't need anybody." Paige looked at Emily and mirrored her sneer. "Still... a little attention from a hot jock..."

"Yeah – well, if you think she's so hot, maybe _you_ should go for it."

"I told you, Em. I've got my sights on someone else..."

"Of course you do," Emily cooed sarcastically. She let the silence hang for a few seconds before she complained, "She thinks I'm an _infielder,_ for fuck's sake!"

Paige just laughed.

"That's funny?"

"Oh, come on, Em! The only time she's seen you play softball, you played second base! And, let's face it, you rocked it!"

"That's not what she said," Emily muttered bitterly.

"Hmm?"

"Did you hear what she told me?" Emily's tone switched from angry to mocking as she repeated Spencer's words. "You throw like a girl!"

"Whoa!" Paige took her hands off the wheel in surrender. She knew that that was the wrong button for Spencer to have pushed. She paused, to let Emily come down a bit before she explained, "She's just focused, you know? She doesn't like to lose."

"Yeah. I know. I heard. And you know how I feel about overly competitive people."

Paige looked over with a smile. "And yet, you manage to put up with me," she pointed out, bumping shoulders with Emily.

"Ugh. You're different." Paige raised a questioning eyebrow. "You're competitive in an irrepressible puppy dog kind of way."

Paige chuckled. "I don't even know what that means." Emily didn't offer an explanation. Paige shot her a sweet smile when she realized that none was coming. Dipping her head, she asked in a sing-songy voice, "So, are you going to come out for next week's game?"

Emily poked her on the shoulder. " _That's_ what I mean. Irrepressible puppy dog."

* * *

Emily couldn't wait to get back to her house, get out of her uniform, and get under a long, hot shower. All that she wanted to do was just wash that whole day away. She leaned with her right side under the nozzle and massaged her neck and shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. It had felt good, she was willing to admit to herself, to be active, doing something athletic again, and doing it with a group, not like her solo runs or swims. And winning felt good. Knowing that she played a big part in that winning effort really felt good.

But she still had a sour taste in her mouth because of Spencer Hastings. Emily never liked competing against – or even with – people who took games too seriously. And what kind of captain berates her own team? Emily dunked her head under the shower head, tossing it back and pushing her hair out of the way as the hot water splashed against her face and gushed down her neck and torso before splashing onto the ceramic base of the tub and scurrying down the drain. She wished that she could stay there forever, letting the water carry her away, as it always did, when she was in a bad mood.

Even when, much later, she stepped out of the shower and patted herself dry with a towel, her mind had not moved on. What was the use, she complained to herself, of going out and doing things in a group when everyone assumed that it meant that she on the market? It was bad enough that Paige was trying to spark up a romance for her, but she really didn't need Captain Competitive putting the moves on her.

Emily was happy where she was. There had been a time, not that long ago, when she really wanted to find someone, and she would have welcomed Paige's help. But she'd come through those dark days with a stronger resolve, and a greater appreciation of her self-worth.

She didn't need someone to complete her. Her life was already complete.

And, she really didn't need the kind of person who would throw out an outdated, sexist cliché like "You throw like a girl."

"You know who throws like a girl? Mo'ne Davis. Alex Hugo. Jackie Traina." Emily groaned when she realized that she had said that out loud. She just needed to let it go. She slipped into some comfortable sweats and headed downstairs to whip up something for dinner.

She called her mother as she ate, filling her in on the details of the day. She knew that her mother would get why she was so upset about Spencer's comment. It was Pam, after all, who had taught her how to throw a softball. And, as Emily had predicted, Pam gasped in disbelief when Emily told her what Spencer had said. But after a couple of minutes of commiserating with Emily, Pam couldn't resist asking, "Well, is she cute at least?"

Emily scoffed long and loud into the phone. She would've been happy if she never had to see Spencer Hastings again.


	2. Line Drive

When Saturday rolled around, Emily, despite her on-going feud with Spencer Hastings (which, admittedly, was only playing out in her head) found herself sitting on the steps in front of her apartment with her mitt on one knee, her elbow on the other, and her chin resting on her upturned palm. She smiled, stood up, and trotted to the car when Paige pulled up.

Paige hadn't mentioned Spencer all week. On the way to the ballpark, she seemed to talk about everything but Spencer - the weather, the price of the gas that she had just filled the tank with, the new insulated cups that they had started using at The Brew. It was weird, the extremes to which Paige was going _not_ to talk about Spencer. Maybe she was worried that hearing Spencer's name would make Emily bail on her.

Emily almost asked Paige why she was so quiet on the subject, but she didn't want Paige to know that she had noticed. Paige would surely take that the wrong way, and think that meant that Emily had been thinking about Spencer.

She didn't really care why Paige was avoiding the mention of her name. It wasn't as if Emily even wanted to talk about...

 _Spencer_.

There she was, right outside of Emily's window, when Paige pulled onto the grassy parking area by behind the field. Spencer had just parked and stepped out of her car, and, when Paige pulled into the parking spot, Spencer ended up sandwiched in between their two cars.

Spencer opened Emily's door. It wasn't a chivalrous or flirtatious gesture. She opened it because, the way the cars were situated, Emily wouldn't have been able to open the door herself without running the risk of squishing Spencer.

Emily smiled a polite thank-you.

"Hi!" Spencer almost gushed, dialing back her sunny expression when she realized that she was coming off as overly stimulated. "I'm glad that you decided to give it another shot!" She was trying to pull off casually welcoming, but it was hard for her to keep her enthusiasm at bay. For a second, Emily worried that Spencer was going to hug her.

Emily gave another polite smile and a nod of her head before she looked over to Paige, who quickly looked away, as if she hadn't been staring at the two of them the entire time. Spencer gestured with her hand, indicating that Emily should go first. Emily reached into the back seat and retrieved her bag before putting her hand on top of the door that Spencer was still holding, and closing it. She moved around to the back of the car, to let Spencer out, and combed her fingers through her hair before she gathered it into a ponytail, looping it through the hole in the back of her baseball cap.

The trio set off towards the bench, with Spencer trailing a step or two behind. Paige took a step to the side, turning to ask Spencer how her week had been, and Spencer moved in to fill the gap that Paige had created between herself and Emily. She walked between them for the remainder of their short hike.

Paige hadn't stepped aside as a ploy to let Spencer get closer to Emily. It was just that she knew what it felt like to be the outsider, on the fringes of other people's conversations, so her natural tendency was to let Spencer in and make her feel included.

* * *

Between batters in the third inning, Emily slid her foot around atop the infield dirt before she crouched into her fielding position, punching her fist into her mitt. Infield was beginning to grow on her. There was a greater immediacy to the position; she felt closer to the action. She peered over to home plate, to see what pitch the catcher had called for, and cheated over a step to her right, expecting the batter to pull the ball.

Spencer went through her motion and fired off the pitch. The batter jumped all over it, sending it screaming back at Spencer, who barely had time to turn to the side and try to cover up before the ball smashed hard against her cheek. Emily gasped for a split second before her instincts and training kicked in. She dropped her glove and sped over to the circle, dropping down to her knees to look into Spencer's eyes. "Don't move!" she said firmly.

Spencer looked up through glassy eyes and saw Emily's radiant face, backlit by the sun, which was forming a halo around it. She tried to speak, but her words came out in a drunken slur. Emily knew not to put too much stock in the babble that she was hearing from Spencer's lips. She was just happy to hear her talking. Talking was a way to stay alert, and Emily needed Spencer to stay alert, to avoid shock.

Someone dialed 911. Emily kept Spencer as comfortable as she could until the paramedics arrived. Spencer never stopped chattering the entire time.

Emily gave the paramedics Spencer's vitals as they prepped her and carted her to the ambulance. The game was called. Emily found Spencer's gym bag and tossed it into the back seat of Paige's car. She pulled out Spencer's purse to have it ready, in case they needed her insurance card or ID at the admissions desk.

"Is she going to be okay?" Emily nodded silently. She was still a little keyed up and distracted. "What did she say to you?"

"Nothing!" Emily realized that her answer came out too quickly and too harsh. Paige's question was simply a matter of innocent curiosity, but Emily's response was panicked. She reset and tried again; this time, less loud, and more in control of herself. "Nothing," she repeated. "She had a head injury," she explained. "She was just stringing together words, incoherently. That's how it happens with a head injury, sometimes."

Paige looked over and nodded, choosing to overlook the way that Emily had been so quick to shout down the idea that Spencer had said anything. She also chose to ignore the flush in Emily's cheeks. Emily, no doubt, would have explained as being merely the result of the rush of energy from what had happened, but Paige didn't ask. She knew that, sitting in the car, following the ambulance to the emergency room, was neither the time nor the place. And she knew that, for whatever reason, Emily was respecting Spencer's privacy. Paige respected it, too. On top of all that, it was obvious that Emily had some processing to do. Paige thought it best to give her the space that she would need to do so.

Emily would never be able to tell a soul what Spencer said. She knew that Spencer hadn't been in her right mind when she said it, and that she would probably die of embarrassment if anyone – even if she, herself – ever found out what she had said to Emily. Still, Emily would never be able to forget Spencer's words – perhaps not verbatim, but pretty damned close.

* * *

The hospital kept Spencer for observation for a couple of hours. They probably would've kept her overnight, had she let them, but she insisted on getting home. She rode in the front seat of Paige's car on the trip to pick up her car from the lot at the Community Center. Paige drove Spencer home from there, in Spencer's car. Emily followed, in Paige's car. It wasn't the most logical arrangement, but Emily felt more comfortable having Paige ride with Spencer, given their history. Their recent history in particular. In the end, it didn't much matter. Spencer was quiet for the entire trip. When they got to her house, Paige and Emily walked her inside and made sure that she was comfortable for the night. Paige offered to stay, but Spencer assured them that she would be fine. She was already too embarrassed at the vulnerability that she had shown, lying helpless in the pitcher's circle while her team and the other team hovered over. She didn't remember much of what happened after she released that last pitch, but she was sure that she had thoroughly embarrassed herself.

Emily ran down the doctor's instructions with Spencer, looking sternly into her eyes to make sure that she promised to comply. She was also looking for any signs that Spencer might not be safe alone. When she finished her speech, she held out her arms on reflex, so relieved that Spencer was okay. Spencer gave her a hug of genuine thanks.

* * *

Paige offered to pick up some fast food or a pizza on the drive back to Emily's apartment, but Emily took a raincheck. She needed to be alone for a bit. When Paige dropped her off, she headed straight to her room, not bothering to shower or to change out of her softball clothes. She pulled her father's old Army footlocker up to the window of her bedroom and gazed from the darkness of her room into the evening sky. Her apartment didn't have a window seat, so she improvised with the footlocker whenever she needed to think.

Spencer's words were still rolling around in her head.

 _This must be Heaven. I'm in Heaven.  
You're an angel. A real-live angel up in Heaven.  
Oh, Angel, you're so beautiful. Just kiss me. I'd die to wrap my lips around your tongue.  
I'm already dead, so just kiss me, Angel. _

And then, it started to get embarrassing.

As the teams gathered around them to get a closer look at what was happening, the players behind Emily blocked the sun, removing the halo effect, and, with it, Spencer's focus on Emily's face.

 _Oh, look at those boobs. They're so perfect. Heavenly boobs.  
I would love to bury my face and them and mwararrarrrarr.  
Is there motorboating in Heaven?_

Emily, understandably, gasped in shock.

 _Wait! I'm sorry, Angel!  
Don't send me back to Earth! Please!  
I want to stay here with you!_

Emily advised her not to speak.

 _I'm sorry!  
Don't be mad, Angel!  
Just give me a kiss before you send me back. _

Spencer sighed giddily.

 _Kissed by an angel._

Emily took a deep breath, hugging her knees. Spencer was definitely not her type. She was too hardcore; too competitive; too – much. And, besides, Emily wasn't interested in dating. She was enjoying the single life.

And yet, there was something about Spencer's words. Emily had enjoyed more than her share of success with the ladies, but she wasn't sure that she had ever had anyone fall so deeply for her. Or maybe it was just that none of the others had been so explicit about it. Still, she had to admit that it kind of felt nice to be wanted that much. And she had to admit that her pensive scowl had melted into a smile at the thought of the things that Spencer had said about her.

But Spencer wasn't her type, was she? Emily had seen glimpses of a softer Spencer; nervous, tentative, even. It was kind of cute. Emily couldn't go by what Spencer had said under the influence of that line drive to her face. That was more like a drunk-dial than a window into Spencer's brain. And yet, sometimes, alcohol acts like a truth serum. Could it be the same with a concussion?

Emily smiled, shaking her head as she whispered Spencer's final line, "Kissed by an angel." She took a deep breath, lifting her shoulders high and letting them fall before she pulled it together and headed for the shower.


	3. Drag Bunt

"Hey." Spencer opened the door in a housecoat, looking like a train wreck. It was a bright day out, but her home was dark. She didn't bother to invite Paige in; she just spun around and headed to the couch, knowing that Paige would follow.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a sorority girl the morning after her first night of binge drinking," Spencer growled, her voice a low rumble.

"Do you need to go back to the ER?"

"No," Spencer said softly but firmly. She opened a bottle and shook out a couple of aspirin, chasing them with a huge swig of water. She let out a breath after the water went down and turned a skeptical eye to her friend. "How bad was I?"

Paige grinned sympathetically. "How much do you remember?"

Spencer shook her head. "Not much. I remember letting the ball go, thinking 'HOLY SHIT,' and then it all got blurry. Next thing I know, I was in the back of the ambulance. Even then, I was fading in and out."

"Well, let's see. When the ball hit you, you dropped like a sack of potatoes. Emily was the first one over…"

"Of course." Paige looked puzzled. "If I'm going to make a fool out of myself, of course Emily had to have a front row seat." Spencer shook her head helplessly.

"It wasn't so bad. Emily was just really concerned about making sure that you were okay. You were lucky she was there, actually. She's the one who took care of you till the paramedics got there."

Spencer huffed. She got what Paige was saying; still, she didn't think it was so lucky that Emily had been there to see her like that.

As if things weren't bad enough, Paige continued, with a wry smile, "And, by the way, you were chattering away the whole time."

Spencer sat up in her seat, with a look of panic. "About what?"

"I couldn't really hear. Emily said it was just incoherent babbling but…" Paige raised her eyebrow.

"But what?" Spencer's voice was desperate.

"Well, let's just say, I know Emily, and I know when she's hiding something."

"Paige, what did I say?"

"She didn't tell me," Paige said with a shrug. "And she won't. As I said, I know Emily, and I know that she won't violate your trust."

"Oh, God… oh, God… oh God!" Spencer was rubbing her forehead. "Paige, this is not good. You've got to find out what I said to Emily!"

"I think you're going to have to get that answer yourself, Spence." Spencer glared at Paige. "What?"

"Paige, I can't ask her. I just…" Spencer groaned in frustration.

"You can't ask her? That doesn't sound like you, Spencer. What happened to the old Hastings take-charge, can-do spirit?"

Spencer dropped her shoulders. "She hates me," she said, her voice muffled by defeat.

"She doesn't hate you." Spencer narrowed her eyes and stared coldly at Paige. "Okay, well, she may not be your biggest fan, but she doesn't _hate_ you. I don't think she's capable of hating anybody, really." Spencer dropped her head. There wasn't much consolation in knowing that the woman who was incapable of hate didn't hate her. "Look, she just... she's not too fond of the ultra-competitive types, you know what I mean?"

"So, you're saying that I would have to change who I am, in order to have a shot with Emily?"

"No," Paige said, stretching out the word, impatient at having to explain it to Spencer. "You're competitive. We get that. But that's not _all_ you are. Maybe play up the other side of your nature. You might even find yourself enjoying the fun side of the games and the camaraderie of being with your team"

Spencer got up and put her hand on her forehead. "God. I fucked up so royally. Just because I made that stupid fucking comment because I always have to be so fucking competitive." She spoke sharply, obviously incensed at herself.

"Spencer…"

"What? What can I possibly do? How could I possibly fix this?"

"Well, first of all, don't panic." Spencer rolled her eyes. "Okay, so you're down by…" Paige took a moment to come up with a suitable figure. "…six runs. But it's the bottom of the second inning, not the bottom of the seventh. There's plenty of game left to play. You don't have to go out there and try to hit home runs. You just have to stay calm, stick to your game, and chip away at the lead."

Spencer took in a deep breath, pushing the hair out of her face and exhaling in a puff through her mouth. She nodded towards Paige. The strategy seemed reasonable. No grand gesture; just play the long game.

Spencer had only one more question. "Does she know why you asked her to play on my team?"

Paige bit her lip, leaning forward in her seat as she tried to think how to say it. "Well, not specifically, no. But she's not really buying the fact that I'm stalking a secret crush."

* * *

Spencer stared at the scrap of paper that Emily had given her with her phone number, telling her to call immediately if she started experiencing any symptoms. She paced around her room with her phone in hand, pumping her fist up and down at her side, trying to get it together. What felt like an eternity passed in the time between the moment when she pressed the last number and the moment when she worked up the nerve to press "CALL."

Emily picked up right away. "How are you?"

"Hi, Emily? This is…" Spencer chuckled nervously when she realized that the greeting she had prepared wasn't necessary. Emily knew who it was. "Oh, right – you have my number, because I…" Spencer's tongue froze. She cursed herself. It was not off to a good start.

"Spencer, are you okay?"

Nothing.

"Spencer?"

Emily scanned the room for her keys. If Spencer was still having concussion symptoms, she was ready to take her to the hospital.

Spencer shook her head to reboot. "No, hey, I'm fine. I'm fine. I just…" She chuckled nervously.

"Are you sure? Don't be a hero, Spencer!"

"I'm not, I'm not. I just have a bit of a headache, but that's all, I promise."

Emily nodded into the phone. "Okay," she said, as if trying to soothe a child.

"Yeah. Hey, listen, I just wanted to say thanks for yesterday. Paige told me that you got me sorted and… Well, thanks."

Emily shrugged. "It was nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I am," Spencer said, smiling to herself, "thanks to you."

There was so much more that Spencer wanted to say – "I know we got off on the wrong foot." "What did I say to you when I was out of my mind?" "Can I thank you over dinner?" – but she remembered Paige's advice. She didn't need to swing for the fences. She needed to pace herself. So, she kept it short. "Well, I'll let you get back to what you were doing. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciated it."

"You're welcome," Emily said. But after Spencer's almost-whispered, "Bye," before Spencer could end the call, Emily spat out, "Hey, Spencer…"

"Yes?"

"I'm serious – call my anytime if…"

" 'Kay." Spencer's voice was barely audible. She found it hard to speak. "Thank you, Emily."

"Okay."

Spencer ended the call and held the phone next to her chest. She made a sound that was unrecognizable as she worked on breathing normally again. The sound was somewhere between a relieved laugh and a contented sigh. The phone call had gone as well as she could have hoped. Not a swing and a miss. It might not have been a single, but, at least, she was still at the plate.

For her part, Emily wasn't sure what to make of the conversation. She was glad, of course, to hear that Spencer was all right. And she had been genuinely worried about Spencer when she went silent at the outset of the call. But she would have had those same emotions for anybody. She was in the caring profession, after all. And yet, there was something about the softness of Spencer's voice on the other end of the line; something about the fact that Emily had rendered her speechless; something about the way that Emily could almost see Spencer's lips curl into a shy smile when Emily told her to call her. Emily growled in frustration, falling limp against the bed. After all of those months when she had cried her eyes out over being alone; all of those times when she so desperately wanted somebody – _anybody_ ; what a cruel trick it was for Cupid to throw someone her way just when she had learned to enjoy being on her own. She didn't want to be _that_ Emily again: analyzing every phone call; wondering when she would hear from someone again; spending sleepless nights speculating about what someone else was feeling. She didn't want to – hope.

* * *

The following Saturday, there was a threat of rain. Spencer was actually kind of hoping for a downpour. She had a lot on her mind and was finding it hard to concentrate on the game. She was doing her best to keep her competitiveness in check, for Emily's sake.

But her lack of concentration was having an adverse effect on her pitching. No one would have blamed her for being gun-shy, after having been plastered in the face the week before, but that wasn't what was going on. When she let a pitch slip out of her hand and it sailed a couple of feet over the catcher's head, the catcher ran out to the circle to have a chat with her and calm her down. She told Spencer that it was only natural for her to feel nervous in the circle, and that she didn't have to soldier through if she weren't ready.

That was the last thing that Spencer needed to hear. All of a sudden, she felt that all of her teammates were looking at her like some weak, timid creature who got knocked for a loop when she got knocked out of the game. She walked around the circle a couple of times, talking to herself.

It didn't help that Emily was just a few feet away - the girl whom Spencer was desperately trying to show that she could be less of a ruthless competitor.

Spencer looked in for the sign, twirling the ball behind her back. She started over-throwing the ball, pitching from adrenaline and anger rather than with technique. Emily, though Spencer couldn't see her, gestured with her palms down, repeating, "Bear down! Bear down!" under her breath. Spencer got tagged for a couple of runs before she was able to get out of the inning. She headed for the far end of the bench to sulk.

After their turn at bat, Paige, without looking at Emily as the two of them jogged to their positions in the field, said, "You need to have a word with her."

After Spencer took her warm-up tosses, Emily headed to the circle. She spoke in short sentences, with a stern tone that Spencer could relate to. She told Spencer that she was better than the way that she was pitching; told her to bear down and play her game. It was just what Spencer needed to hear. She didn't need to be treated with the kid-gloves. She needed somebody to kick her ass a little.

When she finished the pep talk, Emily smacked Spencer on that ass. It was a jock thing; Emily had done it in games - and had it done to her - countless times. Spencer was so pumped up to get back in there and pitch that she didn't even notice.

But Emily noticed. All of a sudden, Emily started paying attention to that particular region of Spencer's anatomy, on display a few short yards away from her in the circle: The way the right cheek tilted up and to the side a little as Spencer leaned on her slightly bent left knee and looked in for the sign from her catcher; how solid and firm her ass looked as she straightened up, at the beginning of her pitching motion; the way it rose as she swiveled on her plant foot; the slight bounce – with not a trace of a jiggle – as she sent the ball hurtling towards the plate. Emily observed this repetition over the course of a couple of pitches, a little caught up in it all, until she registered the crack of the bat against the ball and realized that the batter had connected – and that the ball was coming right at her. She had the good luck and good reflexes to be able to be able to react in time, diving sharply to her right and gloving the ball an inch or so off the ground, to rob the batter of a hit. She came up firing triumphantly, tossing the ball to the shortstop, who relayed it to the third baseman, who threw it back to Spencer in the circle.

"Way to field, Fields!" Spencer shouted as she tucked the ball into her mitt. Emily shook her head, smiling, and smoothed out the dirt in front of her with her shoe. She wondered how long Spencer had been planning to pull that one out. Emily had heard it before, of course, dozens of times. But she could let it go. The fact that Spencer had said it meant that she was settling into her game, and that was a good sign.

* * *

Emily was nervous as the last batter stepped up to the plate. It looked as if the game was going to be a loss for her team, but that wasn't what had her on edge. She was worried about what Spencer would do. The first Saturday, Spencer came up to her after the game to ask whether she was coming back – and to give her her number. The second week was a wash, with everything changing after Spencer got beaned by that line drive. As the closing pitches crossed the plate there in the third week, Emily was apprehensive, not knowing whether or not Spencer was going to come and track her down again. She didn't know whether or not she wanted her to. And she didn't know why her leg was bouncing up and down like crazy. She jumped to her feet to let go of her nervous energy. Using her hands as a megaphone, she screamed, "Come on, Aria! Get a hit! Whoo!" Paige looked at her as if she had gone crazy. It was an odd time to get up and start cheering, with the game all but over. Spencer, on the other hand, picked up on Emily's energy. She liked that Emily wasn't going to go down without a fight. She got up and started clapping rhythmically and chanting Aria's name. The rest of the team joined in, and, sure enough, Aria got a little dink hit that kept the inning alive. A couple of hits later, she crossed the plate, but it was too little too late. The opposing pitcher got Mona to chase a pitch in the dirt, and walked away with a victory.

Although it wasn't the reason that Emily had done it, her impromptu cheerleading ended up settling the question of whether or not Spencer would seek her out after the game. "Way to rally the team, Fields!" Spencer tapped her mitt against the side of Emily's hip. It was very tastefully done, and impossible to be misinterpreted as a lewd gesture or even a tit-for-tat response to the slap that Emily had delivered at the end of her pep talk. It was plain that it was a simple sign of solidarity. Still, the praise made Emily smile, and helped her to feel like part of the team.

Before the moment could get awkward between the two of them, Aria piped in. "Yeah, way to go, Emily! Who would have ever thought that I'd be able to get a hit - much less score a run!"

"Yeah, way to go, Aria!" Paige yelled with a hoot, and the dynamic shifted from Spencer and Emily's moment to Aria's.

As Spencer unlocked her car, she took a subtle glance over in the direction where she had last seen Emily. Emily was still there, looking over at Spencer, and gave her a smile. Spencer returned the smile quickly and ducked into the safety of her car. _Drag bunt up the third base line_ , she thought. _Safe at first._


	4. Safe at First

"Oh, shit…" Paige said resignedly. When Emily looked over to see what was going on, Paige pointed to her phone. "My Dad," she explained. "He got an earlier flight into Philly, so I'm going to have to leave like…" Paige took a look at the time on her phone. "now, to get to the airport in time." She crinkled up her face and apologized. "You'll be able to catch a ride home?"

"Oh, sure! Don't worry about me!"

Spencer looked over from her spot farther down on the bench. "You need a ride, Emily?"

"No, I'm fine," Emily called back pleasantly. "There's always Uber!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Spencer insisted. "We're practically neighbors. Of course, I can give you a ride."

"Oh, okay! Thanks!" As Emily turned away from Spencer toward Paige, the buoyant smile descended into a more honest cringe. Paige, for her part, met Emily's gaze with a big, goofy grin, her mouth wide open and her eyebrows arched.

* * *

Emily strapped herself into Spencer's car and sighed. She found a point to focus on out of the window as the car got in motion. She was twitching her thumb against her index finger, something she did when she was uncomfortable.

Spencer, for her part, kept stroking her hair away from her face. Every 20 seconds or so – Emily counted out the time – she did this thing where she cleared her throat and ended with a sort of half-laugh; maybe a quarter-laugh was closer to describing it. She was tapping her thumbs against the steering wheel, as if in time to the music, but there was none playing – just some political debate on BBC World Service. When the Brits got a bit too loud, Spencer reached for the dial. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Emily said, but, by then, Spencer had already turned the radio off.

Emily bobbed her head, trying desperately to come up with something to break the deathly silence. "So," she finally said, smiling gamely, "'Way to field, Fields?' How long have you had that one in your pocket?"

Spencer looked over with a chuckle. "Only a couple of weeks," she said, matching Emily's smile. "I guess you've heard that one a million times!"

"Well... No. Maybe only a half-million." She laughed, poking Spencer with her elbow, and Spencer laughed back. "So, what do people do with your name?"

Spencer gave a shrug. "Oh, I don't know. 'Tastings,' 'Wastings' – 'Hastings makes wastings' – anything that rhymes with Hastings." The words were tumbling out too quickly. Spencer caught herself and abruptly stopped talking, with another clearing of her throat and a nervous quarter-laugh.

"Yeah," Emily replied, acknowledging the nicknames.

Deathly silent.

Emily was starting to miss the BBC. She had never before realized just how long the drive to her house from the Community Center was.

At a stop light, Spencer put her hands in her lap and turned slightly towards Emily. "What did I say, when I got knocked out by that ball?"

"Huh?" Emily was caught off guard by the question, so she didn't have time to think up something or prepare herself to play it cool. "N… Nothing! It was just, you know, incoherent." Spencer's look showed that she could see right through her. And it wasn't because Spencer was particularly perceptive. "You know," Emily added, desperately continuing her weak attempt at lying, "You had a brain injury. You were just stringing random words together."

Spencer dropped her shoulders as she turned to start driving again. "Come on, Emily. I've _got_ to know."

Emily let out a frustrated groan. "It was nothing. I mean, you just got kind of flirty." Spencer put her hand up to her forehead. "But I could totally understand given the circumstances, Spencer." Emily's voice was getting higher as she desperately tried to play it down.

"What did I say?" Spencer pleaded.

"You…" Emily spoke softly, not looking at Spencer. "You thought I was an angel, and you didn't want me to send you back to Earth without a kiss."

"Oh my God!" The pitch of Spencer's voice got almost ultrasonically high by the end of that exclamation. Passing dogs were perking up their ears. Emily shrugged. "Well, I'm sorry if what I said was inappropriate, Emily." She looked over, and Emily shook her head. Spencer looked at the road again before she confessed, "But I wasn't saying anything that I didn't mean."

Emily huffed. "Did you mean it when…" She turned away. "Never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Emily…"

Emily groaned. "You were kind of obsessed with my…" Emily, with no conscious thought behind the action, glanced down quickly to verify that the top button on her softball jersey was fully closed. "With my chest."

Spencer gasped and slammed on the brakes.

"Yeah," Emily chuckled. "Something about motorboating an angel." She hoped that the ridiculous quote would help Spencer relax.

It didn't. Her face fell.

"Shit," she said, subdued. "I'm really sorry, Emily."

Emily nodded. "I understand." Spencer looked over, incredulous, and looked away. They had, mercifully arrived at Emily's building. Spencer pulled into a spot near the front door and put the car in park. She tucked her hands into her lap and looked down at them as she spoke. "I don't want you to think that I'm perving on you when we're out on the diamond together."

"Spencer, really." Emily grabbed Spencer's wrist and pulled her hand out of her lap, giving it a gentle squeeze and holding onto it. "I believe you." Emily gently stroked her thumb back and forth across the back of Spencer's hand. Her brain was screaming, _Why doesn't she just kiss me?_

Emily loved strong women. The kind who would take a chance and go for a surprise, romantic gesture. And that's the kind of woman she thought that Spencer was. But even though Spencer had admitted to having feelings for Emily, and Emily was holding her hand, Spencer just sat there,with a forlorn look on her face. Like Eeyore, but less optimistic.

In fact, Spencer _was_ the kind of woman who would go for it when she needed to, but it was different with Emily. She was afraid of scaring her off. She kept hearing Paige's advice in her head. _Don't go for the home run. Just chip away at it._ She had gotten on base by admitting her feelings; she wasn't going to get cut down trying to stretch a single into a double.

And that motorboating comment really threw her for a loop.

Emily sighed when she realized that things weren't going to go any further. She released Spencer's hand, announcing sadly, "Well, I'd better head inside."

Spencer leaned over, resting her hand on the seat that Emily had just vacated, and made her final appeal. "I'm really sorry," she repeated. "I hope this doesn't mean that you'll stop coming out to the games."

Emily didn't get what would make Spencer think that. She had already come to two games after what Spencer had said. Spencer didn't know what she had said, back then, but Emily certainly did.

"I'll be there," Emily assured her, as she closed the door. Just before it thudded shut, she added, "I wouldn't want to miss seeing that cute butt, when you go into your pitching motion!" As soon as those words were out there, she turned quickly and tried her best to keep a normal pace, rather than speed-walking, back to her apartment. She never looked back. Once she was safely inside, she fell back against the door, biting her finger through a smile. She couldn't believe that she had actually said it. She didn't know where the courage had come from. She stood there for a while, trying to get her heartbeat back to normal.

Had Emily not been so focused on her own situation, she might have noticed that she never heard Spencer's car start up outside of her apartment. Spencer needed time, too, to process what she had just heard.

The next game was going to be interesting.

* * *

"Hi!" Spencer was trying her best to act normal when she greeted Emily, but something caught her eye. Emily was wearing a gold cross on a chain around her neck. Spencer had never noticed it before. Emily raised an eyebrow when she saw where Spencer's eyes were focusing. Had Spencer not been so on-edge, she would've said something like, "Is that new?" to indicate that she was staring at the jewelry, not the cleavage. Instead, she said, "Emily, I swear I wasn't…"

"I believe you," Emily said sincerely. But she tilted her head to the side, and made a show of letting her eyes wander over to Spencer's hips with a shy giggle.

"Oh, great." Spencer said, playing along. "So, at least it's not going to be awkward out there!"

Paige, obviously puzzled, looked to Emily for clarity, but Emily just jogged out to her position between first and second base. She had a good seven innings before she would have to tell Paige what happened – and have to endure Paige's teasing and her insistence that she knew all along that Emily really did want a girlfriend. And Paige would probably take credit for having gotten the two of them to talk, as if she had planned it all along.

Seven innings could be a long time. Maybe they would even go into extra innings. And, with any luck, someone else would get hit by a batted ball, and whatever was going on between Emily and Spencer would suddenly not seem so important.

* * *

Emily was getting antsy. There were two out in the top of the seventh. Her team was ahead, so, unless the other team scored, there would be no bottom of the seventh.

It wasn't that long ago that Emily was dreading the end of a game because she was afraid that Spencer would confront her. Now, she was dreading it because it meant that she wouldn't be able to avoid having the conversation with Paige. At least with Spencer, she had been able to claim, "I've got to run," and head towards Paige's car. But Paige was her ride home. That wouldn't be _too_ uncomfortable.

Maybe, she thought briefly, she could get a ride with Spencer. But that would just give Paige more ammunition.

Spencer got the last batter to pop up to the infield. Emily swept her hands to the side, calling everyone else off as she proclaimed, "I got it!" and squeezed her mitt around it for the final out. She tossed the ball to the circle, chasing behind it to give Spencer a high five. As the rest of team joined them there, Emily looked at Paige, who was jogging in from the outfield with a wry grin on her face.

Paige kept that grin on her face the entire time they loaded up the car and settled in, but she never said a word. Finally, when they pulled out of the parking space, Emily spoke up. "If you've got something to say, just say it."

Paige chuckled. "And what would that be?"

"Whatever clever thing you've been holding in since you saw Spencer and me this morning."

"Ha!" Paige clapped her hands together. "I knew it!"

"You know what?" Emily said perfunctorily.

"I knew that, if I got the two of you together, something would happen!"

Emily slapped Paige's shoulder a bit harder than she had intended. "I knew you were just making up that story about picking up your dad!"

Paige turned to look at Emily with a not-guilty smile. "You're welcome." Emily rolled her eyes. "So, tell me how it went! I want details!"

"I don't know…" Emily realized that she couldn't tell Paige that she had told Spencer all the crazy things that she had said after she got hit by the softball, or Paige would want to hear them, too. "We just talked, kind of. And then we..." Emily lowered her voice, subconsciously, before, with a shrug, she confessed the rest, "flirted a little as I got out of the car."

"And then what happened."

Emily sighed, putting her hands up in the air. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing! She never called or texted or anything." Her voice quieted almost to a whisper. "She's clearly not into me."

"Yeah, right!" Paige scoffed.

"Yeah. Right," Emily affirmed petulantly. "I don't know, maybe she's just playing games with me. To get back at me."

"Emily, she's worried that you're still mad at her about the 'throws like a girl' thing."

"You guys have talked about me?" There was a trace of panic in Emily's voice.

Paige shrugged. "A little. She asked me if you hated her."

"And what did you say?"

"I told her that you don't like girls who are too competitive."

Emily slapped Paige's shoulder again. "Paige!" This time, it was as hard as she had intended.

"What? You told me you hate it when people are super-competitive!"

"Oh, God." Emily let her head fall back against the headrest and stared up at the top of the car. "It's no wonder she didn't call me."

"Em, seriously." Paige squeezed Emily's knee. "She was probably just trying to give you space. I told her not to move too fast."

"Oh, you're just full of great advice!" Emily threw her hands up melodramatically.

"Em, she's going to call you."

Emily scrunched up her nose. "You really think so?"

"Definitely."

Once they arrived at Emily's apartment and Emily was safely inside, Paige whipped out her phone. She texted only two words: **Call her.**

Her phone buzzed right away.

"You told me not to go for the home run!" Spencer sounded mad, but she was actually just afraid. She didn't want to blow things.

"I know I did," Paige said patiently, "But you've still got to step up to the plate!" Spencer groaned in frustration. She wasn't getting this game at all. "Look, the bases are loaded, and you're up at bat. You don't need to swing for the fences – just make contact. A little line drive will pick up a couple of runs."

"Ugh." Spencer huffed out a large puff of air. "Are you as sick of this softball metaphor as I am?"

"Call her."

"What did she tell you?" Spencer asked, with a hint of accusation.

"She just told me that it got kind of flirty in the car, but that you never called her. She thinks that you're messing her around."

Spencer panicked when Paige mentioned the flirting. "Did she tell you what I said to her?"

"What did you say to her?"

"You know, when I got hit by that ball."

Paige sighed. "Spencer, I told you. You're going to have to ask her that yourself."

"Oh. Okay. Well, maybe I will, someday." Spencer came down from her panic attack. She was relieved that Paige didn't know what she had said to Emily, and even more relieved that Emily hadn't told Paige that she had told Spencer what she said. "Anyway, I'll call her."


	5. Home

Spencer gave it a day before she called Emily. She didn't want to call right away, fearing that Emily would get suspicious and figure out that Paige had told her to call.

"Hi, Spencer!" Emily's voice sounded pleasant. Spencer was relieved that she seemed to be in a good mood. She had tried to time her call just right – not too early on a Sunday morning, but not so late that Emily had other plans.

"Hi, Emily. How are you?"

"I'm good… What's up?"

"Not much. I was just calling to see what you're up to today."

"Not much." Emily giggled to herself at the fact that she had parroted Spencer's words. "I was just, you know, tidying up around the house, and I figured I'd go down to the office a little later and get caught up on some stuff."

"Oh." Spencer tried not to sound disappointed. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to hang out for a bit, but if you're going to the office…"

Emily interrupted Spencer, trying not to sound too eager, but not wanting her to back away from whatever she had in mind. "Yeah, I can hang out for a while."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Emily repeated the word, with more enthusiasm. "Yeah! That sounds like fun."

"Okay, well, did you want to come over? We could watch a movie or something?"

"Okay!"

"I can come get you?"

"That's all right. I know where you live." Spencer giggled nervously into the phone. "I'll probably be a few minutes, though, if that's okay?"

"Sure." Spencer wanted it to sound casual. She didn't want to put herself too far out there. "Take your time."

* * *

Spencer was startled when her doorbell rang. She took a moment to get it together.

Emily did casual very well. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a jersey with "USA 80" on the front. Spencer welcomed her inside with a hug. The hug started awkward, but they settled into it nicely. Spencer caught herself humming a little as they separated. "You smell good," she said, with a nervous laugh, by way of explaining her vocalization.

"Thank you," Emily said tentatively. She was amused by the effect that she seemed to be having on Spencer.

"So, what kind of movies do you like?" Spencer asked, leading the way to the living room.

Emily shrugged, even though, since she was behind Spencer, Spencer couldn't see it. "I can watch pretty much anything," she replied, keeping her tone upbeat. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well," Spencer stopped, gesturing to the couch. Emily sat, and Spencer sat next to her, maintaining a safe distance. "I like the old, black and white movies, like Casablanca."

"Ooh. Roman…tic." Emily's voice trailed off on the last syllable. She didn't mean to imply that Spencer was up to anything.

"Or, we could watch something else," Spencer offered quickly, picking up on what Emily had said. "Sci Fi or horror?"

"Casablanca's fine. It's a classic." Emily found herself unable to look at Spencer, staring instead at her fingers, as she twisted them in her lap. The movement drew Spencer's eyes there, and she had to brace herself, not wanting to perv on Emily's well-tanned, well-toned thighs. She worked her way up to Emily's eyes, her progress broken momentarily by the sight of Emily's chest in that slightly tight jersey.

"Casablanca it is!" Her voice was welcoming and confident. "Did you eat anything? I could get a pizza?"

"Pizza's fine." _Anything's fine!_ Emily was trying not to sound as impatient as she was, but the suspense about how the afternoon was going to go was killing her.

"Okay."

They settled in to the movie, and into the pizza, when it arrived. They were mostly silent, but it wasn't uncomfortable – not until Spencer threw out a fun-fact.

"You know, back in the black-and-white era, movie makers had to abide by what they called 'The Code.' That's why they couldn't show a lot of things in these old movies." Emily nodded. "They had to do it with symbolism. Like cigarettes," Spencer continued. "Cigarettes symbolize sex. When you see a guy and a woman light up a cigarette and stare at each other, it's the equivalent seeing the couple wake up in bed together in a contemporary movie."

Emily stifled a laugh. She didn't want the laugh to make her seem immature. But she couldn't believe that, of all the fun-facts in Spencer's brain, that was the one that she chose to share. "So, were you planning to offer me a cigarette right now?" Emily didn't realize what a bad choice that statement was until the words were out of her mouth.

Spencer rolled with it, not having realized until Emily's question how inappropriate her discussion about cigarettes must have seemed. "No," she mouthed, without actually saying the word. Her lips, wrapping around that syllable as if around a cigarette, looked incredibly kissable. When Emily saw them, she understood the connection between cigarettes and sex. "Not on the first date," Spencer added audibly, with a nervous laugh.

Emily returned the nervous laugh. _So, this really is a date._

The rest of the movie passed without more awkwardness. It seemed to be easier for them to relax, once the fact that it was a date was out there.

Spencer kept looking over to make sure that Emily was okay. Finally, Emily just rested her head on Spencer's shoulder, to remove any doubt. Other than putting her arm around Emily's shoulder in response, Spencer never made a move. She did, however, reach for Emily's hand and give it a comforting squeeze when the shooting started near the end of the movie. Emily appreciated the gesture. Even though the movie wasn't scary, Emily was never comfortable with gunplay.

When the closing credits started to roll, it was as if the spell between them was broken. Spencer shifted and Emily separated from her, drumming her fingers against her lap. Spencer stood and started to clear away the plates and the pizza box. Emily got up and grabbed the glasses and water bottles. She followed Spencer into the kitchen.

Spencer took the glasses and the bottles from Emily and put them in the recycling bin. "Are you still going to try to make it to the office?"

Emily pulled her phone out of her back pocket and checked the time. "I guess I really should," she said with a sigh. The next thing she knew, Spencer was walking her to the front door. _Swing and a miss_ , Emily thought to herself. Or maybe a foul ball. The afternoon had been pleasant, but it hadn't ended the way that she had hoped.

When they got to the door, Spencer took Emily's hands and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "I hope we can do this again sometime?"

Emily's lips stretched into a smile, before they paired up with Spencer's again. "I would love that."

They stood in front of the door, silently staring into each other's eyes for a few more moments. Emily felt Spencer's fingers twisting through a strand of hair that lay dangling beside her cheek. Her hand found its way to Spencer's cheek on reflex, and, all of a sudden, they were kissing again.

"Do you really have to go?" Spencer asked in a soft purr.

"I don't want to," Emily admitted, "but I probably should."

They both knew that she was right. They could easily have gotten ahead of themselves, had she stayed.

Emily took one more taste of Spencer's lips before she opened the door and headed out.

She didn't smoke, but she really needed a cigarette.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't need me to come pick you up?" Paige's voice was annoyingly teasing. Emily gritted her teeth and tried to roll with it.

"No, thank you, Paige. I'll be okay."

"I'm just saying – it's an awfully long walk…"

Emily sighed, resignedly. She didn't want to let her frustration show. That would only make the teasing worse. "I have a ride," _As if you didn't know,_ "but thanks for offering."

"Oh. Well, maybe I could catch a ride with you guys, then!"

"Um… Sure," Emily said pleasantly, calling Paige's bluff. She would rather have Paige ride along with her and Spencer than have Paige tease her about why she wanted to have Spencer all to herself.

"Oh, actually… you know… I have a… thing after the game, so I should probably just drive my own car."

"Yeah," Emily mumbled, "I was pretty sure you would."

"What was that?"

"I said, 'We'll see you there.'"

* * *

Emily stood on the steps in front of her apartment, holding her gym bag in front of her with both hands. She was twisting from side to side slightly, looking down at her shoelaces. She looked up when she heard Spencer's car pull up, and she smiled, returning the smile that Spencer was giving her.

"Hi, Em!"

"Hi, MB!"

 _MB?_

Spencer contemplated the meaning of that nickname. At first, she thought that Emily was just adding a syllable to "Em," in a half-mocking way. Then, she wondered whether it stood for "My Bro," or "My Bitch," neither of which sounded particularly like something that Emily would say. It only took a half-second for her to realize what it meant, and, just as it hit her, Emily began acting it the explanation, shaking her head back and forth rapidly and vibrating her lips, motorboating the air.

"No!" Spencer shouted. "You are _not_ calling me that!" She was trying her best to sound stern and intimidating, but she couldn't keep the smile off of her face. She kind of liked the fact that Emily had a pet name for her. As long as it stayed between the two of them. She really couldn't see having to explain it to anyone.

But, of course, Emily would keep it private. After all, she hadn't told anyone – not even her best friend, Paige – what Spencer had said on that day.

"So, did Paige tease you about riding to the game with me?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"

Spencer pouted sympathetically and squeezed Emily's shoulder as she whispered, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Emily said pleasantly. "I can handle a little teasing." She put her hand on top of Spencer's, which was still awkwardly resting on her shoulder. It took a second or two for them to work out the grip, but, soon, they were holding hands in Emily's lap, and it felt good.

When Spencer had to take her hand away to make a turn, Emily kept her palm open in her lap, not sure whether or not Spencer's would make a reappearance, once it was free again. Spencer didn't hesitate, boldly reclaiming Emily's hand as soon as the turn was completed. Emily muffled a giggle. She liked the boldness. When Spencer smiled over at her, wondering what the giggle was about, Emily said, "Nothing." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just like the way our hands fit together." Spencer squeezed Emily's hand. She liked it, too.

As they pulled up to the diamond, Spencer tipped her chin to point to Paige, who was unloading her bag from the back of her car. "How do you want to play it?" Spencer wanted to flaunt her accomplishment; to show Paige the progress that she had made, but she didn't want to make Emily uncomfortable. She knew how relentless Paige could be with her teasing.

"Cool," Emily replied, with a devious look in her eye. "Let's keep her guessing."

Spencer sighed melodramatically. "Okay." She wasn't actually bothered, but, she reasoned, making it appear to be a big sacrifice on her part would certainly win her some brownie points for later.

Emily stole a glance through the windshield, making sure that Paige hadn't noticed Spencer's car yet. When she saw that her attention was elsewhere, she leaned over and gave Spencer a quick kiss. "Thanks, Spence."

 _Thanks._ As if there were anything that Spencer wouldn't be willing to do for one of Emily's kisses.

* * *

When the team took the field, Paige jogged to the outfield, leaping up and down a time or two to limber up before she stooped into her stance, her hands on her knees. Spencer made her way to the circle and began tossing her warm-up pitches. Emily found her place between first and second base - and between Spencer and Paige. She pounded her fist into her mitt a couple of before leaning her head back and shouting, "Whoo! Come on, guys! Let's go!"

She was excited. She couldn't help it.

Win or lose, it was going to be a good day.

* * *

 **A/N - Thanks so much for indulging me in this brief foray into Spemily. I appreciate the reviews and PMs more than you can imagine.  
**

 **For those of you who know me from my Paily work, I can say that I've already started thinking through the Paily version of this tale. I won't make any promises about how soon I'll finish it and get it posted... It's not as simple as just replacing Spencer's name with Paige's. :)**

 **I love you all so much - no matter whom you ship!**


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